Bonnie Winn - Falling for Her Boss

Tessa took a deep breath, still feeling the twitchy beat of her heart. “Depends on what it is.”

“If you’re lonely or just bored, call me. If you don’t feel like coming over or having company, we can talk on the phone.”

“I can’t promise to do it every time,” Tessa replied truthfully. Most days she felt she used up all her words during working hours and had few left for anything else. It was why her cupboards were relatively bare, her cottage virtually unchanged since she moved in. Talking required an energy that she couldn’t seem to sustain. Her parents had commented on her sparse communications. Tonight’s pain was subsiding, nearly extinguished. Suddenly exhausted, she rubbed her eyes. It seemed as if years had passed since her divorce.

“Okay,” Cindy conceded. “I hope you’ll feel like going to church tomorrow.”

“I’ll see.”

Sensing Tessa’s reluctance, Cindy was silent as she drove the short remaining distance.

Morgan’s broad driveway was empty, all the cars enclosed in the garage, so it was difficult to determine just who was home. But it didn’t matter. After saying goodbye to Cindy, all Tessa wanted to do was disappear into her cottage. Skirting the front of the house, she took the shortcut that led her past the rose arbor.

“You’re home early for a Saturday night,” Morgan spoke from the darkness.

Startled, she jumped.

“Sorry. Thought you saw me.”

“No, I wasn’t looking out into the yard.” Tessa collected herself, gazing into the night, finally seeing that he sat on a curved stone bench. What is he doing out in the dark alone? Should she ask? Undecided, she hesitated.

“The smell of the roses,” he explained, apparently sensing her curiosity. Morgan stood, moving into a patch of moonlight. “It’s more distinct at night when it’s still. The heat of the sun brings out the aroma and the cooler air seems to capture it.”

It was a romantic notion, one she hadn’t expected of him. “Oh.”

“Did you have a good time?”

“A good time?” she echoed. “It wasn’t exactly that kind of day. I was having tea with Cindy when she got called to the Children’s Home. Wound up working there this afternoon...well, and this evening.”

“What did you do there?” he questioned.

“Cooked, read stories. Stuff with the kids.”

“Oh.” He looked perplexed.

She wondered why. “Is that so amazing?”

“You don’t have kids.”

Tessa stiffened. “No, I don’t.”

He held up one hand. “It wasn’t an accusation. Just seems like an unlikely way to spend a Saturday.”

“Don’t you want to spend Saturdays with Poppy?”

“I do as often as I can. Not as often as I want.”

The day’s ventures emboldened her. “Why not?”

“My job doesn’t end at five o’clock on Friday. Pipelines leak, trucks break down. You know that.”

Tessa still didn’t understand why he insisted on such hands-on management. “Surely you can hire someone to help with your workload.”

“Do you know how many small enterprises like mine are gobbled up every year? I have to make sure that doesn’t happen to Harper. If I delegate away all the problem solving, I might not know if we’re facing a major obstacle.”

“Is it really that likely?” she questioned.

“Adair Petroleum built a large regional office here several years ago to handle their pipeline and trucking operations. The recession hit. Now one of the majors owns it. And most of the local people who worked at Adair found themselves out of jobs. I took on the ones I could, but I didn’t have enough jobs to go around. If something happened to Harper, it would be devastating to this town. I won’t let that happen on my watch.”

“Oh.”

“Yes. Rosewood thrives because we, the community, made a conscious decision to keep it alive, to keep out big business and superstores that shut down local mom-and-pop operations. The bed-and-breakfast has been in the same family for generations, the same for the café, bakery, drugstore, hardware... Well, you get the idea. This community takes care of its own. And I’m part of that—I have to be, with so many employees dependent on me. It’s not easy, but if it’s important it’s worth the effort.”

All admirable, Tessa realized. Still... “What about Poppy?”

He frowned. “What about her?”

“She seems a little lonely.”

“Lonely?” he scoffed. “She has me, Dorothy, Alvin, my parents when they visit.”

“It seems she’s only around adults,” Tessa said carefully, hoping not to anger him. “I mean she doesn’t have playdates, the kind of thing other kids do.”

“I didn’t have playdates when I was growing up. My parents were growing the business. I turned out reasonably okay.”

Tessa sensed she wasn’t gaining any ground and was about to be told to mind her own business. “True.” She hesitated, remembering Dorothy’s comment about Morgan no longer attending church. “Does Poppy attend Sunday school?”

“No. Why?”

“Just thinking. There are other kids to interact with. They sing, hear stories, sometimes make an art project.” Wincing, she gave in to another impulse. “I go every Sunday. She could come along with me.”

“I don’t know...”

Not sure of his religious convictions, she tried to be subtle. “Like I said, it’s mostly a social thing. I think Poppy would really like it. I see Cindy and Flynn there.”

He seemed to waver. “What about the church session?”

“She could go to junior church,” Tessa replied. “Lots of singing. Unless you have plans to do something with Poppy tomorrow.”

“No. I have to meet with a pipeline supervisor, Ronnie Broussard. He’s a key man in the field—East Texas. He’s tied up all the time putting out figurative fires. We need this meeting.”

She waited.

“I suppose it would be all right,” he conceded, “for her to go with you tomorrow.”

She wondered if the roses had softened him.

“But no preaching.”

Or not.

“I don’t want her to grow up with false promises,” he continued, “and to believe everything’s going to be all golden.”

Tessa frowned, hating to think the child would be denied the joy of hope. “No?”

“Life has a way of squashing things. It’s ridiculous to believe it can all be changed or fixed.”

“It’s not ridiculous,” she replied quietly. “It’s faith.”

“It’s pointless,” he replied, bitterness infusing the words.

“You must have loved her a great deal.”

Silence was sudden and thick.

“I don’t need your amateur psychology or your meddling.” He turned, his boots a distinctive thud on the stone walkway.

Morgan seemed to take the rose-scented air with him when he left. Too much emotion had been staked out on display today. She wasn’t sure why she’d felt the need to prod him about Poppy, to question him about his late wife.

Following the puddles of moonlight, she made her way to the cottage. But, despite her best intentions, she turned around, watching as Morgan disappeared in the night.

* * *

It was plain to see Poppy was excited to wear her best dress and shoes by the way she eagerly smoothed the skirt. Her dress was blue, almost an exact match to her eyes, broken up with large white polka dots. Along with white tights and glossy white shoes, she was a picture. Her small fingers curled in Tessa’s, sending a responding curl of warmth to her stomach. Such innocent trust in the gesture. If this little girl was hers, Tessa knew she would take walks with her just to capture her hand and hold it close.

“Are other kids gonna be there?” Poppy questioned again.

Tessa smiled, not minding the repetition. “Yes. Lots. You’ll have a good time.”